Hungover
by thelilacfield
Summary: "I love you, Kurt," he murmured as he slipped into unconsciousness. - A missing scene from 2x14


Just a plot bunny I had after watching BIOTA again. Hope you enjoy :)

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><p><span>Hungover<span>

"Remind me again why I signed up for this?" Finn groaned, squinting through the darkness to see which was Brittany's house.

"You were being responsible," Kurt answered, checking on Brittany, Sam and Blaine in the back seat. "But I agree that driving drunk teenagers home at one in the morning is going above and beyond the call of duty."

Finn just grimaced, turned off the engine and got out to manoeuvre Brittany from her seat and to the door of her house, trusting that the girl could take it from there. That left only Sam and Blaine in the back, Sam with his cheek pressed against the window watching the night drift by and Blaine asleep against the other window.

"Just Sam to drop off, but I don't know where Blaine lives," Finn said as he started the engine again and drove off with a last look at Brittany, still standing by her front door.

"He boards at Dalton, which is an hour away," Kurt told him. Finn groaned and turned to look at the boy sleeping peacefully in his back seat.

"I am _not _driving an hour there and an hour back at one in the morning to drop one person off," he said, shaking his head to emphasize his point. "Burt's already going to kill the both of us. But what else am I supposed to do?"

"Finn, I know you're tired and it's late," Kurt said as they stopped on the end of Sam's street and the boy, who seemed to have sobered up a little, let himself out and stumbled towards his home. "I would offer to drive, but I'm so tired we'll end up crashing and I don't want that. Blaine can crash with me, it's fine."

"Won't Burt have a problem with that?" Finn asked, starting the engine up and beginning to drive home, his eyelids drooping even as he drove. "Not to be homophobic or anything, but with the both of you being gay I'd expect something to happen."

"It's okay, Finn, I get it," Kurt said. "It's like I'd assume something happened if Rachel had stayed over with you. I'll get him on the couch and explain to Dad in the morning. Hopefully there won't be any issue."

Finn bit back the urge to tell his stepbrother that there would _definitely _be an issue and just drove them home, stopping outside the house. He got out and went to check for any lights on in the house and open the door while Kurt gently shook Blaine awake.

Blaine's eyelids fluttered slowly open and _oh my God that was sexy _Kurt nudged him, trying to bring him to full consciousness. "Blaine, wake up," he murmured. "You're going to crash in my house tonight because you're too drunk to drive. Do you understand?"

Blaine just nodded, his eyelids still fluttering as he looked around, trying to ascertain where he was. As Finn gave him the thumbs to indicate a clear territory and an unlocked door, Kurt carefully manoeuvred his paralytically drunk friend out of the car and to the door, where Finn helped them inside and carefully shut the door without making a sound. "You've done this before?" Kurt asked as Finn opened the medicine cabinet and rifled through the various packets and bottles.

Finn nodded. "You wouldn't believe the number of times Puck's crashed with me without Mom ever realizing," he recounted, grinning as he found what he was looking for. "These are for Blaine in the morning," he said, handing the two bottles to Kurt. "Puck has a stash here because, y'know, I usually end up the designated driver and he crashes here. The white ones are for the headache and the red ones should settle his stomach, not that it ever worked for Puck."

"Too much information, Finn," Kurt said, wrinkling his nose at the thought. "If Blaine is throwing up in the morning, _you _are dealing with it. I don't do vomit."

"Dude, I've already been above and beyond the call of duty tonight," Finn countered, watching Kurt fill two glasses with water, opening the fridge and glancing at the contents. "Kurt, seriously, you're not going to get up to anything funny, are you?"

"No!" Kurt insisted, slamming the two glasses onto a tray with unnecessary violence. "For the last time, Finn, Blaine and I are just friends!"

"Sorry, Kurt, I just…I saw the way you looked at him during Spin the Bottle," Finn murmured. Kurt ignored him, turning to Blaine. His face softened and a smile tugged at his lips as he spoke gently to the drunk boy.

"Blaine, you're going to have a terrible hangover in the morning," Kurt explained. "If you feel really terrible and I'm not awake, wake me up, okay? I'll take care of you and I have pills to make you better."

"Kurt…I'm tired," Blaine murmured, sounding like a small, petulant child. Finn hid a grin as Kurt smiled at his friend.

"I guess we should get you into bed," he murmured. "Finn, would you get him upstairs? You have more experience with moving drunk people than I do." Finn nodded and slung Blaine's arm around his shoulders, basically carrying him across the kitchen and up the stairs, wincing at every creak and moan of the wood beneath his feet.

Kurt followed them, carefully balancing a tray in one hand with the glasses of water and bottles of pills on it and clutching a blanket and pillow in the other. It was a miracle that they weren't discovered, but Finn got Blaine into Kurt's room and, asking a final, "Are you _sure_ there won't be any funny business?" of Kurt that wasn't heard or, most likely, heard and entirely ignored, crossed the hallway to his room, ready to sleep all weekend after coping with his drunken friends all evening.

Kurt's more maternal side, the side that had had him comforting everyone after their loss at Regionals last year, the side that had him making dinner and taking care of his dad, came into its own confronted with a drunk Blaine.

Handing his friend a glass of water, Kurt unlaced Blaine's trainers and placed them neatly by the door, concluding that nothing else could be done unless he wanted to get into taking Blaine's clothes off, which he really didn't. Sitting on the couch with his head on one side, his hair wildly curly, Blaine looked so adorably innocent.

"Drink," Kurt ordered gently. "It'll help you sober up a bit and it might not be so bad in the morning."

"Cuddle me," Blaine murmured, taking his hand and pulling him close. Kurt pulled away, because that was something he really didn't want to get into. Blaine was _drunk_ and he probably wouldn't remember anything in the morning, it was wrong to do anything he wouldn't be comfortable with sober.

"Blaine, you're tired and drunk, you need to sleep," he told him sternly, lifting his head to slide the pillow beneath him. "I'm going to make you a bed on this couch and I'm going to sleep in my bed, alright?"

"But I wan' a cuddle!" Blaine exclaimed, pouting like a small child not getting his way. Kurt smiled fondly at him, wrapping the blanket around him and watching him finish the water.

"Maybe another time," he said, watching as Blaine lay back amongst the cushion, already half-asleep. "Sleep well, Blaine, and don't forget to wake me in the morning if you feel really ill." Blaine nodded, snuggling against the pillow.

"I love you, Kurt," he murmured as he slipped into unconsciousness. Kurt tried to ignore the leap his heart made at those words and, smiling again at his friend who was already soundly asleep, changed and climbed into bed.

It was only an hour later that Kurt sprang awake to hear retching from his bathroom. Flinging the covers aside and pushing the door open to find the tiny room in complete darkness, he found Blaine, shivering violently with his forehead pressed against the edge of the bathtub.

"Oh, Blaine, are you okay?" he asked, feeling his friend's forehead and fetching the blanket from where it lay crumpled on the floor, pulling Blaine upright and wrapping the blanket around his shivering body.

"I feel really ill," Blaine moaned, swaying where he sat. "My head hurts."

"That's what happens when you drink too much," Kurt said softly, brushing Blaine's hair out of his eyes and wrapping his arms around him. It didn't matter that this was the boy he had a crush on, he was ill and Kurt's friend and he needed to be taken care of. "Let's get you cleaned up and back into bed."

Trying not to retch himself at the smell that filled the room, Kurt helped Blaine, still shivering, back to the couch and tiptoed out of his room into the dark house, returning to find Blaine huddled up with his chin resting on his knees.

"If you feel sick again," Kurt explained, setting the green plastic bucket by the end of the couch, "use the bucket, and wake me up to help you."

Blaine groaned, leaned over and retched into the bucket. At loss for what to do, almost wishing he had Finn with his experience of taking care of drunken teenagers in the room, Kurt just rubbed Blaine's back until he had finished and slipped an arm around his shivering shoulders, biting his lip at how pale he was.

"I don't like being ill," Blaine murmured, cuddling against Kurt, slipping his arms around Kurt's waist. "It makes me shiver and I'm cold one minute and hot the next. I hate it."

"I hate you being sick too, baby, but we just have to cope until you're better," Kurt told him, and immediately felt heat rise up his face. He hadn't meant to call Blaine that pet name, it had just slipped out. Immediately his mind began racing, coming up with excuses for saying _baby_.

"I'm going to brush my teeth, they taste yucky," Blaine said, stumbling into the bathroom and Kurt breathed again. This was drunken Blaine who didn't hear everything he said, not sober Blaine who heard and digested every word he said in their conversations.

Blaine returned a few minutes later, smelling pleasantly of mint, his eyes glazed as he slumped next to Kurt and curled up against him. "Blaine, I said we wouldn't cuddle," Kurt muttered, trying to edge away no matter how much he wanted to stay there.

"_Please_, Kurt?" Blaine asked, widening his eyes to give his best pleading look. Resigning himself to having this on his conscious, Kurt wrapped his arms around his friend, pulling the blanket over the pair of them as Blaine smiled and snuggled against him.

"Blaine, this is only until you fall asleep," Kurt said sternly. "Then I'm going back to my bed and you're staying here on the couch."

"I'm not tired," Blaine breathed and Kurt had to restrain himself because that was _sexy_.

"You are, and you need to sleep all that alcohol off," he insisted, but he still held Blaine in his arms as Blaine's head dropped onto his shoulder. Kurt had to wonder how many couples around the world were sitting in the exact same position, but pulled himself away from that train of thought.

"Alcohol is good if you cuddle me," Blaine muttered, his disjointed alcohol-laced thoughts coming out aloud. An unfortunate side effect of being drunk was being unable to control whether you voiced your thoughts aloud or not, as Kurt knew from previous experiences.

Slowly Blaine's head on Kurt's shoulder grew heavier and his slow, regular breathing filled the room. Edging out of Blaine's surprisingly strong sleeping grip, Kurt laid his friend back against the pillow and pulled the blanket over him before returning to bed.

Around half past four, Kurt was shaken awake from a dream heading down the direction of pure insanity and rolled over to see Blaine, biting his lip with his hair sticking up in all directions and worry in his eyes.

"Kurt, I was sick again," he whispered as if it was something to be ashamed of. Kurt watched him sit down on the edge of the mattress before he crept down the bed to sit next to him, putting a comforting arm around him.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of it, Blaine," he told him softly. "You can't help it if you're sick."

Blaine curled against him. "I love you, Kurt," he whispered. This time, Kurt didn't ignore the leap his heart made.

"You've said that twice now, but you won't remember in the morning," he said, entirely conscious of Blaine's gaze and the way the boy was holding his hand. "Why do keep saying it?"

"I remember now," Blaine insisted, his voice growing stronger with every word. "I know I'm not gonna remember in the morning, but I spill my soul when I get drunk and so I'm telling you now that I love you."

He met Kurt's eyes and Kurt stopped breathing for just a moment because, despite being a drunken mess, Blaine was beautiful, more beautiful than any boy he'd ever seen. Blaine seemed to tip forward slightly, stumble where he knelt, and his lips met Kurt's.

It was the most imperfect first kiss in the world. The early hours of the morning, Blaine drunk and sick, Kurt trying so hard not to do something he would hate having on his conscious and thinking of his promise to Finn for no funny business.

Yet it was perfect. Because this was Blaine, _Blaine_, the boy he had been in love with since Christmas, probably since he'd first heard him sing, this boy who was his best friend. It was perfect just for the physicality of Blaine being there and all the impossibility of this actually happening.

And so they lost themselves in the moment, conscious of nothing but each other. The niggling knowing at the back of Kurt's mind that Blaine wouldn't remember in the morning left his mind.

Kurt awoke promptly at seven to sunlight slanting in the window, rolling over and almost shrieking in fright as he found Blaine's head on the pillow next to him. Sitting up quickly and sliding out of the bed, he remembered everything that had happened in the night, everything _he _had _let _happen while knowing it was wrong and hoped that Blaine remembered too.

Blaine awoke with that same fluttering of his eyelids that was _so damn sexy_. "Where am I?" he murmured, looking blindly around.

"My room," Kurt told him. "And you look terrible." He found the two bottles of pills and handed them to Blaine. "Take these and go back to sleep."

Only as Blaine slipped back into oblivion did Kurt allow himself to shed a few tears. Of course Blaine didn't remember. Of course he wouldn't remember their first kiss or the words he had said.

Of course those happy memories would disappear in the morning.

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><p>You gotta love Furt bromance and maternal!Kurt, right? For those of you wondering, I thought Blaine would be the 'spill your soul' kind of drunk person, so that's where this came from.<p>

Please don't favourite without reviewing, if you enjoy this that much, thank you :)


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